it's been 3 yugas, 358 no-moments, 16 hyper-jiffies, and 8 billion realities since last year

green river (b4), floating tavern (e6), vermilion palace (g3), i renamed the chess coordinates. 1-8: tower, peach orchard, palace, river, gate, tavern, vineyard, pavilion a-h: eastern, green, lucky, ancient, floating, forbidden, vermilion, western

the drift jewels evaporate at your touch, releasing deep sea-song: caleuche chants mutating into siren-speech, splintering into hydra hisses, decaying into pantemporal echoes

taking a big hit but it's an aromachemical mixture designed to hit trpm8 (cooling), trpv1 (burning), trpv3 (warming), and trpa1 (stinging) simultaneously. (don't worry, i have a trp-sitter)

colorful snow, halcyon weather snow, snow that flash-ionizes into supercritical plasma water, a viscoplastic Play-Snoh. loud snow. those are the main "weird snows", i think

galbanum-violet-pear. oxytocin-dosed empathogenic perfume. pink pepper & linden blossoms. topical caffeine in perfume. theta wave enhancer in citrus solvent. champaca cognac

anxious? just eat well, exercise, drink the green vial not the emerald-green vial, dream only of the empty atrium, and submit your metrics to the Department of Continuous Joy

while you sleep, tiny sapiobionts practice pooktre on your dendrites, tend the salt-gardens of your ion gates, and graft noospherules along your brainstem

what should i do if, for example, the perfectly flat plane of impossible colors that's been floating in a fixed point above my computer desk spells out "touch me"?

new study finds you should stop having emotions at least 4 hours before bed. switch to a low-feeling protocol after 6 pm for optimal sleep!

let's learn about the void together

for your birthday i artistically rearranged my face into a shape resembling happiness

you could declare any day to be your birthday, and bask in the warmth of well-wishes and benedictions. you could probably have 4 birthdays a year

i'll never post pictures of my food, but i will share my unhinged cake recipe, which requires grapes, yogurt, 5 candy bars, and coffee

talk to me sometime, not in vulgar phonemes, but through code pigeons and warm digital rains, in vaporous ascii plumes or holobeacon glow

the space between words seethes with gibberish-froth and neologism-spawn, amoebic phonemes and proto-morphemes coalescing like plankton blooms

my favorite exoplanets are the one with the "humming" moons, the one where it snows dark matter particles, the one that's just a chthonic circle pendulating in the void, the one that's dead

bring back the satya yuga, bring back the quetzalcoatl catbus, bring back the primordial tequila w/ the quark-gluon lemon

a hedonist's club where we smell different perfumes, get a medwah and smoke dokha, sample nootropics, explore the sensuality of rotating tesseracts

beautiful surreal language poetry, full of crystalline bon mots and eyeball kicks hooking at one's mind

open a bottle of saudade. green neverblossoms float up and evaporate, whiffs of pretemporal leaves spill out, lingergroves flow in long trails of absence-sillage

hypersaudade, the feeling of missing a breeze that turned southeast, longing for memorized cloud formations, imagining time's end, already homesick for time

holding up a sign that says "i'm being friendly right now" instead of making eye contact and smiling

may all beings hallucinate fatou components while saffron kulfi melts on their tongues, on a beach with 24 levels of sunset, especially those living in hell

the atolls are thick with angel sightings: angels full of green stars, luminoangels slopping seaward at low tide, emerald-headed angels treading the predawn verge

the moon wants you to breathe warmly across its terminator line, murmur mantras into its craters, and trace its maria with your fingertips

a ghost is not a dead thing. a ghost is a negentropic flower, a smoke plume re-gathering, signal emerging suddenly from staticky void

i miss the Rift. it was beautiful to become static and gibberish at reality's edge, to watch the qubits disintegrate around us, like butterfly swarms

erotica about wandering a banana grove, inhaling windblown banana vocs: grassy hexanal, verdant trans-2-hexenal, honeyed isoamyl acetate, tropical-jam butanoic esters

This is actually a really good example because I had to rewrite it like 3 times before I was happy with the spellings

the date was going fine until we stumbled into a moonlit field of feral musk hogs, smelling of rancid earth and regret. we ran with them anyway. their hooves were gentle on the wetlands

being "creative" is fun even if we occasionally conjure up exotic scaly, luminescent, fasciated lifeforms

what if we kissed in the formless jhanas, a translucid empty space with no colors, our faces overflowing with void, like void kissing void

pain motivates me to treat others more kindly, because it makes our lives seem fragile and small, and our myriad petty cruelties look like the childish mistakes of neophyte souls

i'm workshopping buddhist benedictions again

may you rupture through 1000 stages of enlightenment in a delirium of peanut-sauce epiphanies and lime-leaf koans, dissolving into a coconut-glazed satori

joel salinas is a polysynesthete who reported a synesthetic red-green: it looked like visual quicksand and void, simultaneously colorful and colorless, red and green and neither

would you perhaps like to run away to bahia together? my portuguese is rusty, but i do speak fluent llama: hmmrrk. it means 'the moonlight is butter' in llama

what would you stock in a scent-library? chunks of aged ambergris, unopened guerlain jicky, green papaya milk, night-blooming cereus, bee bread, blue honeys?

did no one else have clown trucks growing up? they'd drive around every summer evening, playing calliope music, hawking balloon animals and squirt flower boutonnieres?

effective hedonism: ostensibly salubrious asceticism for hedonic treadmill recalibration and hedon-per-experience-maxxing

but you missed my creative and surprisingly poignant avril lavigne snowclone series from 3 months ago

another substack post, in this one i wrote about some common perfumery ingredients and how dynamical systems theory can apply to scent

the most perfect artwork is indistinguishable from a universe

dreamer's maxim: if you can imagine it, then perhaps you also possess the art to engineer it. imagine your dream-worlds as floridly, crisply, and pungently as possible

some people hate as a hobby when they could just perfect the curve of a calligraphic g or behold the majesty of nature in a single butterfly

one key to good conversation is finding your audience's entropic sweet spot between the equally meaningless extremes of echolalia and word salad

note to self: check whether the post is actually about sex or kink before replying. does "railed" indeed refer to trains?

the tweet i remember the most said "me whenever i receive a notification" with a video of a dewy-eyed monkey getting a banana

perfumery feels like alchemy: exotic ingredients, non-linear interactions, and even the standard aromachemicals have names like galaxolide, hedione, and paradisone